


time for something real

by tatoeba



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Manhwa Artist Jongin, Romance, cute fluff, pointless anime references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-11-17 00:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11263935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatoeba/pseuds/tatoeba
Summary: Just because Jongin spends all his time drawing romantic manhwa doesn’t mean he actually needs to experience one. At least that’s what he tells himself, before Chanyeol enters his life.





	time for something real

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted 1/24/2014
> 
> this started out as twitter fic and became...this...T_T it’s 100% ebie’s fault. and probably ang’s too. and [jongin’s](http://cfile27.uf.tistory.com/original/247B444752C16C082B7092) [dumb](http://cfile24.uf.tistory.com/original/22394C4B52C16BED175591) [drawings](http://24.media.tumblr.com/ee3c0f5289e1c42ad423e34c6fd4a5c9/tumblr_mxzvwfTalT1qhmxnlo1_1280.jpg) [stop](http://i4.minus.com/ibldBacOYO8Dy0.jpg) [him](http://i2.minus.com/iRKvaBwOiafj9.jpg%22). thank you to the lovely lonio for looking this over for me and telling me it didn’t completely suck.

Jongin groans, hiding his face into the burrow of his arms as a loud voice booms, “Get up! Get _up_ , you have a deadline!” 

“I’m sleeping,” Jongin mumbles tiredly, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the light as his editor undoubtedly yanks open the curtains in his room. He was having a good dream, one where his latest volume was completed and he was celebrating with fried chicken and lots of sleep. Sleep, Jongin thinks, yes, very good, and tries to lull himself back into the warm hands of slumber. 

It doesn’t work. His editor swats him upside the head with something heavy and Jongin jerks up so fast he sends himself toppling over in his chair. He crashes to the floor with a loud, painful sound, and glares up at his manager.

Junmyeon is not a very tall person, but right now he seems to be towering over Jongin, a scowl on his face and one of Jongin’s own manhwas in his hand. “Good,” he says, suddenly breaking into a wide smile. “You’re up.” 

He drops the book and Jongin is too disoriented to dodge it in time. It flops onto his head and then to the floor and he grumbles at Junmyeon, rubbing his wound. Junmyeon pulls his chair back up, wheeling it so it slides in under Jongin’s desk. He shuffles some of the papers across the surface, muttering to himself about Jongin being a right mess, which Jongin thinks is totally unfair because Junmyeon is one of the messiest people he knows. 

“Leave it, hyung, I’ll do it,” Jongin says. 

“No, you go sit down over there and listen to what I have to tell you,” Junmyeon says sternly, pointing over to the small couch against the adjacent wall. 

Jongin rolls his eyes as he stands up, wincing slightly as the fall had really stung his hip. He rubs at it with a palm. “I know what you’re going to say. I know I’m behind,” Jongin says. He forgoes the couch and heads for the kitchen instead. He needs some ice. 

“A _month_ behind!” Junmyeon exclaims, following him. “Have you even finished anything?”

Two pages, Jongin thinks, but he knows that will just give Junmyeon an aneurism, so he keeps it to himself. Sometimes it’s better for Junmyeon to think he’s completely hopeless. Instead he just shrugs noncommittally and turns away to grab an ice pack from the freezer. Junmyeon makes an exasperated sound behind him and then stomps back to the other room. Jongin can hear him shuffling through his work again, clearly trying to gauge how far he’s gotten. He’s not going to be too happy, but Jongin is too tired to care. 

By the time Jongin’s fixed himself a cup of coffee and returned, pressing the pack of ice to his hip, Junmyeon has relatively cleaned up Jongin’s workspace. He’s sitting on the couch with one of Jongin’s thick sketchbooks in hand, sifting through the pages. 

“This one,” he says the instant Jongin walks in. “This character. He’s good.” 

Jongin peers at the page and feels his face burn a bit. “He’s no one,” he says as he sits down at his desk again, sets his mug off to the side. “Just some person I saw at the park a week ago.” 

Junmyeon looks up, eyes intense as he assesses Jongin. It makes Jongin squirm uncomfortably. Eventually Junmyeon just laughs, like he knows something Jongin doesn’t, and turns the page. “Well, it’s good. You could use him in something.” Then he narrows his eyes at Jongin. “But you could do well to work on your _actual_ manhwa then sketch caricatures of some guy you don’t know like a creep.” 

“Go away,” Jongin whines, reaching out to tug his sketchbook back with a pout. 

Junmyeon lets him take it, but he doesn’t move. Instead he stretches out on the couch and says, “I’m not going anywhere until you’ve at least finished the chapter.” 

Jongin groans again, dropping his head onto his desk. The last thing he wants to do is work on his manhwa, his fingers itching already to sketch out another image of the guy he saw at the park. 

“Get to work!” Junmyeon shouts and Jongin heaves a big sigh, pushes everything else out of his brain and does.

Jongin doesn’t know the man’s name, how old he is or where he lives. He just happened to see him at the park a few blocks from Jongin’s apartment on a Saturday afternoon when Jongin felt too cooped up inside and needed a break. The late February air made it still too cold to stay outdoors for too long, but Jongin bundled up warmly, brought his sketchbook with him and sat at a bench in the middle of the park. He could hear children screaming and laughing behind him, the sound of snow crunching under their feet as they played. He doesn’t have to look to be able to draw out happy smiles and round, bright eyes onto his paper. It’s not that easy to draw with a gloved hand, but Jongin has been doing this for many years, it’s almost like second nature.

He people-watches a lot, and he’s quick to memorize every detail of the images he sees. The way the branches on the trees in front of him are stark and bare. The shape of a boot print in the snow just inches away from his feet. The dark curve of the sidewalk between the white mounds of snow, the single lost red glove that’s resting atop a garbage can. He draws practically everything he sets his eyes on. It clears his head from the project he should be doing, the school uniforms starting to be too much for him these days. No more school stories, he decides. Junmyeon won’t like that very much, but Jongin doesn’t care. 

He’s just about to pack up and head home, maybe stop by a cafe for some warm coffee, when he sees him. Or really, hears him, a loud bark of a laugh that startles Jongin. Other than the children laughing, it’s been relatively quiet, the winter chill keeping most people indoors. He doesn’t have to look far before he finds the source, the deep laughter coming from a young man on the other side of the path, sitting crosslegged in the snow with a small dog running around him. It’s a black Scottish Terrier and it yips excitedly as it flies around in the snow, and the man is grinning widely as he plays with it. He has soft brown hair peeking out just barely from under a fuzzy hat that cover his ears, and he’s wearing a thick poofy jacket. 

Jongin is drawing before he even realizes it, filling the page with sketches of this man’s big, hearty smile, intrigued by the way it makes his face a little contorted, one eye squinting more than the other. His clear happiness radiates off of him, and Jongin feels impossibly warm as he draws him into his book. He’s not even sure why he’s so fixated, but he can’t seem to look away, watching as discreetly as possible so he doesn’t get caught. The man runs around a tree with the terrier at his heels, and Jongin takes in the length of his legs, the heavy black boots that leave giant imprints in the snow as he moves. 

Jongin’s not sure how much time he spends drawing this person he’s never seen before, but by the time the man and his dog leave, he has about four pages full of sketches of just him and the beginnings of a terrible problem.

Jongin doesn’t expect to ever see that guy again. Real life isn’t like the hopelessly romantic girly manhwas he spends everyday drawing. He’s not magically in love with some guy he saw in a park and drew his face over four pages in his sketchbook. He can, grudgingly, admit that the guy was kinda handsome, definitely cute. His smile forever engrained in Jongin’s brain and even the rich, happy sound of his laughter replaying in his ears like a broken record. But that doesn’t mean anything. Jongin just found him particularly interesting. From an artist’s perspective. That’s it. It’s just like the time he was fixated with the way Baekhyun’s mouth goes all rectangle-shaped when he laughs and filled a page or two with doodles of it.

But maybe he has to rethink the way the world works because it’s not even a month later that Jongin runs into the man from the park. Thankfully he doesn’t _actually_ run into him, perhaps the world hasn’t turned entirely into a manhwa just yet, but Jongin is settling into a chair at his favorite coffee shop and he sees, across the room, a familiar man working his way through a donut, his phone in his other hand. He’s wearing the same fuzzy hat and the heavy boots and, as Jongin stares, he smiles the same smile that Jongin hasn’t been able to shake out of his head. 

Jongin came here to get away from work again, but mostly from Junmyeon obnoxiously calling him every ten minutes to check his progress. He’d left his phone at home just to ignore him, and there will probably be over a 100 missed messages by the time he gets back and Jongin might have to resort to Sohma Shigure levels of avoidance, but Jongin just needs a break. 

More than any of that though, Jongin never expected to see this guy again. He might have secretly hoped to, once or twice, when he ends up doodling the man’s face into the corner of pages that he should be filling with his latest work, or onto post-it notes that end up littering the floor of his apartment. 

Okay, so maybe Jongin hasn’t been able to get this guy’s face out of his head. But that definitely doesn’t _mean_ anything. 

It certainly doesn’t mean anything when he pulls out his sketchbook, turns to a clean page and starts to draw him again. Jongin does this all the time and rarely do people ever notice he’s watching them and transferring their features onto paper. So Jongin definitely doesn’t expect to glance up from his page and actually meet the man’s eyes that he’s been staring at for maybe an hour now, staring right back at him. 

Jongin almost drops his pen in shock, instead quickly lowers his gaze and refuses to look back up. Maybe he hasn’t actually noticed, and they just happened to look at each other at the same time. Maybe he won’t care and leave Jongin alone. 

Except Jongin hears the scratch of a chair against the floor, and when he glances out of the corner of his eye, he sees those familiar boots walking toward him. He starts to panic, but there’s no way he can pack up all his stuff and leave before he’s confronted. If he’s confronted. Maybe the guy is leaving. 

He doesn’t. He plops himself down in the chair on the other side of Jongin’s small table and leans forward on his elbows. “What’re you drawing?” he asks, and Jongin’s mouth goes dry. His voice is deep, rumbling down Jongin’s spine. It’s nice. 

He flushes, scrambling to hide his sketchbook so the man can’t see. “I-I'm not drawing you, if that's what you think!" Jongin exclaims quickly, even though he knows he's not fooling anyone, really. He hates how shrill he sounds. He tries to stuff his sketchbook back into his bag, but the man is faster, yanking it out of his hands. 

"Oh, really?" he says, grinning slowly. He has perfect white teeth Jongin notices in the haze of his life falling apart around him. "You were staring at me quite a bit. I mean, I know I'm devastatingly handsome, but that's more than I usually get from people." 

Jongin’s face is burning as hot as his coffee. He swallows and says weakly, "Please give that back."

"Not until I've had a look," the man says, and he flips open to a random page. Jongin breathes a sigh of relief because it's not a page full of the man’s own face; just some sketches of the buildings around Jongin's apartment that he can see from his balcony. A few doodles of Zitao’s cat. He gnaws on his lower lip, glances up at the man’s face, surprised to find how his eyes are wide. "You drew this?" he asks, and he sounds...impressed. Jongin blinks. "You're really good." 

Then he flips through a few more pages, until he reaches the last one Jongin was working on. He tries to yank the book back then, but the man holds it up over his head. "You _were_ drawing me!" he exclaims, practically slamming the book to the table with a loud bang and almost knocking Jongin's coffee over. People are looking over at them, Jongin vaguely notices, but he’s more surprised by the fact that the man doesn't look angry, or disturbed. In fact, he looks rather flattered, if the smirk on his face is any indication.

Jongin doesn't know what to say. This hasn’t happened before. Not with a stranger. He draws his friends all the time, and they snatch his work out of his hands whenever they please, mostly to gripe about how he draws everything wrong. Sehun complains that his face doesn’t look so flat and bread-like, but Jongin tells him he only draws what he sees. That only ever earns him a punch in the gut; he should really know better by now. 

But he’s never been caught by someone he doesn’t know. If anyone notices him sketching, they either leave him alone, or kindly ask what he’s drawing and usually it ends up being something inane like the streetlights or a storefront. No one has ever caught him drawing _them_ and the anxiety is bubbling so rapidly inside of him right now that Jongin feels like he might throw up. 

The man is continuing to stare, _leer_ , at him, eyes bright and the slightest quirk of a smirk on his pretty lips. Jongin shouldn’t be noticing that. Fuck. He quickly tugs his book back from the man’s hands. 

"Hey, I was looking!" he exclaims.

"I think you've seen enough," he says, his voice wobbling a little. He’s so flustered, and it doesn't help that this guy seems like he has no intention of leaving.

Instead, he leans his elbows on the table again and asks, "Why were you drawing me?" He pauses, tilts his head and considers for a moment, then adds, "What's your name? Are you some kind of artist?"

Jongin's not sure he wants to divulge all this information to some (admittedly attractive) man he doesn't know. So he just hugs his sketchbook to his chest and says, "What's _your_ name?"

Surprised, the man blinks at him before letting out a laugh. He settles back into his chair, stretching his legs out under the table. They bump against Jongin's. His legs are long, but not that Jongin has been looking. "Chanyeol," he says easily, like he comes up to stranger's tables in coffee shops and talks to them all the time. The way he seems completely at ease, all nonchalance and happy smile, tells Jongin he probably does. "Now what's yours?"

Jongin is still a little wary, but he manages to tell him his name. The man -- Chanyeol, Jongin corrects in his head -- stares at him expectantly, and it takes Jongin a moment to realize he's waiting to hear his answers to his other questions. He sighs, slouching in his chair and staring at his mug of coffee. It's probably gone cold by now. "Yes, I'm an artist. Sort of. I draw manhwa." He winces slightly as he says it, because he hasn't always had good reactions from people he doesn't know, when he admits what his profession is. Chanyeol, though, doesn't seem perturbed.

"And you were drawing me, because?"

Dammit, Jongin was hoping he'd forget about that question. The blush is back on his face and he's sure Chanyeol can see it. He presses his palms to his cheeks and looks anywhere but at him, but it seems like Chanyeol puts two and two together because he's leaning back over the table, almost too close into Jongin's personal space.

"Ah, so you _do_ think I'm devastatingly handsome," he says, delighted.

Jongin is tempted to throw his coffee into Chanyeol's face. Instead he only squawks indignantly, feels the blush slink down his neck as Chanyeol's face contorts into what seems to be amusement.

"Don't worry, I'm not angry or anything," he says, waving a large hand. "It's cool. And you're pretty cute, you know, so I don't mind."

Jongin wonders if it's possible to die from blushing too much. He groans and hides his face in his hands. "I-I'm sorry, okay? I won't draw you anymore, so can you please just...leave?" Jongin mumbles through his fingers.

"Dude, relax," Chanyeol says and Jongin jolts when he feels warm hands grab his own and tug them away from his face. He pulls his hands back quickly and drops them to his lap. Chanyeol doesn't seem to be bothered. “I said it's okay. Are you gonna use me as inspiration for your next manhwa?"

Jongin opens his mouth and closes it a few times, at a complete loss. Chanyeol grins widely at him and before Jongin knows what's happening, Chanyeol's grabbed the pen Jongin had been using and then his sketchbook, right out of Jongin's grasp. He flips to the page with his face all over it, and then scrawls something right in the middle where there’s room.

"If you ever need better details on my face or something, give me a call," he says, and fucking _winks_ at Jongin before he closes the book and sets the pen on top. Then he stands and Jongin is definitely taken aback by how tall he is. "Nice to meet you, Kim Jongin," he says, and Jongin is still in the midst of processing what's happened that by the time everything hits him, Chanyeol is long gone.

With shaky hands he pulls his book over to him, opens it to the last worked on page, and finds Chanyeol's name and number, and a tiny note underneath:

_i definitely don't mind cute boys drawing me, next time just ask and i'll pose however you like ;)_

“Who is Park Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo questions, startling Jongin into choking on his glass of water. He spits water down his front and Kyungsoo looks at him with disgust from where he’s sitting at the kitchen table.

Jongin hastily wipes his chin with the back of his hand and says, “What?”

“Park Chanyeol. This guy who left his number in your book,” Kyungsoo says, pointing to the page. He raises an eyebrow at Jongin and slowly smirks. “Did little Jongin go out and meet someone?”

Jongin wants to demand who he’s calling _little_ , but he knows better than to bring that up to Kyungsoo’s face. “NO,” he exclaims loudly instead, waving his hands in the air dramatically like that will prove his point. When Kyungsoo just stares at him blankly, he drops them, along with his shoulders, slumping in defeat and turning back to the stove to finish cooking. “He’s some guy I met at a coffee shop. Long story. I’m not interested or anything though! You know I’m not looking.”

“But he called you cute,” Kyungsoo says sweetly, like Jongin has forgotten. Like Jongin hasn’t thought about it practically everyday since he met Chanyeol. Jongin hates his traitorous brain. 

“So what, you call me cute.” 

“I don’t count,” Kyungsoo says. “And I’m not the one you have a page full of stalker drawings.”

“I’m not stalking him!” Jongin says loudly, his voice going a little high-pitched at the end. “I just saw him once at the park and then _happened_ to see him again at a coffee shop. When he caught me, and...well. Yeah.” He shuts up, embarrassed, and turns away again. He’s going to burn the food if he keeps getting distracted. But then maybe Kyungsoo will push him away and take over, which is better for them both. Jongin will probably end up poisoning them. 

“So you’re not going to call him?” Kyungsoo asks. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares Jongin down like he’s in trouble and he’s trying to get Jongin to admit it first. 

“I said I’m not looking.” 

“You should be looking.” 

“I’m perfectly happy!”

“You’re a mess.” 

Jongin turns to him with a pout. “You’re mean,” he says and Kyungsoo just laughs, pleased. “And I’m not a mess,” he adds as an afterthought, reaching up to open a cupboard and pull out a plate. 

“Jongin, you basically spend all your time indoors working, and when you’re not working, you watch reruns of Pokemon and buy DBZ figurines,” he says flatly. “The last time you’ve been on a date was like, what? High school?”

“Very funny,” Jongin says. “There was that guy, a few years ago, remember? Taemin?”

“You dated for like two weeks,” Kyungsoo deadpans. “That’s barely anything. It could do you good, you know. You spend all your time writing about magical romances but you never let yourself experience once.” 

Now Kyungsoo sounds mildly concerned, like he’s actually worried about Jongin’s bachelor status and the fact that yes, it really has been a long time since he’s been in a serious relationship. Jongin sighs, runs a hand through his hair and takes the pan off the stove, carefully sliding the vegetables and chicken mixture onto the plate. 

“I don’t want a magical romance,” Jongin says, setting the dish onto his small kitchen table. Kyungsoo looks at him skeptically. “Really,” he insists. “I draw these things because it’s fun, but real life is not like that. And it’s not going to happen with some weird guy I met at the coffee shop, okay?” He gives Kyungsoo his best glare, which doesn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever. “So drop it, okay?”

Kyungsoo puts his hands up placatingly, but then says with a wicked grin, “But when he asks you out and you say yes, like I know you will, I reserve all rights to say _I told you so_.” 

Jongin just laughs and agrees because there’s no way that will ever happen.

Real life seems to be testing him. When Jongin runs into Chanyeol again, it’s a month later, long after Jongin has (mostly) forgotten all about his face and his voice and his number scrawled in his sketchbook. He’s been too busy to think about him anyway, finally finishing up the chapter in his latest volume and starting in on the new one. He definitely hasn’t kept his eye out at the park or that coffee shop for a familiar face, definitely hasn’t doodled those pretty lips and that furry hat into the corners of napkins or anything. Nope, not at all.

Junmyeon’s always told Jongin he’s not a very good liar. 

So when he runs into Chanyeol at a grocery store of all places, he’s sure the world is testing him. Trying to see how much he can handle. Maybe this is punishment for drawing strangers without their consent. 

Jongin tries to be as inconspicuous as possible, but when Chanyeol winds up in line to check out right behind him, it doesn’t take very long for him to notice. He’s got that familiar smile on his face, but he’s not wearing that furry cap of his and his hair is a pretty brown that flops into his face. Jongin wonders if it’s as soft as it looks, but then quickly berates himself for even thinking such a thing. 

“Hey, why didn’t you ever call me?” Chanyeol asks him after he gets over his initial excitement of running into Jongin. He’s pouting now, and it’s distracting, but not enough to mask the surprise in Jongin’s veins. 

“Did you want me to?” he asks haltingly. The tiny spark that lights up inside of him is something Jongin hasn’t felt in a long time. Happy, maybe. A little flattered. He was 90% sure that Chanyeol had left his number facetiously, but perhaps that assumption was wrong. Even though Jongin thought about doing it (more than he'd like to admit), it's not like he knew the first thing about Chanyeol and he wasn't gonna call him up to ask to draw his face because that's totally weird, right? Right. 

Chanyeol laughs and smirks at him a bit. "Why wouldn't I want the cute artist I met at the coffee shop to call me?"

Jongin really hates how Chanyeol throws him off balance every time and he has to force himself not to blush at his words. Jongin clenches his fingers around the basket he’s carrying of chips, milk and vegetables, while Chanyeol swings a case a beer at his side.

"Say, what're you doing tomorrow?" Chanyeol asks him suddenly, leaning in so he can whisper into Jongin's ear. Jongin jerks back, almost knocking over a display stand, and Chanyeol reaches out to steady him with a hand at his waist. "Whoa, relax. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jongin says quickly, "I'm fine." Just terribly embarrassed, he thinks, cursing his life. He shouldn't have even left his studio; his deadline is quickly approaching and he should've just stayed there finishing up the chapter and made Junmyeon bring over food or something. But instead he's run into the one person he can't stop thinking about, who now has his hand resting on his waist, touch warm through his skin. Jongin swallows thickly and steps away just enough that Chanyeol's hand drops away, and then turns away from him, facing the front of the line. Just two people before him before he can escape.

"I looked for your manhwa," Chanyeol says conversationally and that has Jongin blinking in surprise. He turns back to him slowly. Chanyeol is still smiling; Jongin wonders how he can do that, but his smile is really nice, so it’s not exactly like he minds. "But I couldn't find anything by someone named Kim Jongin."

Jongin actually laughs. "I don't write under my real name," he says.

"Unfair," Chanyeol whines. "What is your pen name then?"

Jongin shrugs. "Try and guess," he tells him, and the way Chanyeol narrows his eyes at him makes Jongin finally feel like he has the upper foot here.

Of course it doesn't last though, because just as they move up a spot in the line, Chanyeol says, "You never did say if you were free tomorrow."

Jongin has to work on his volume, has to finish it before Junmyeon threatens to kill him. He should even clean his apartment that's become a complete mess as his focus has been on work. He definitely doesn't have any free time, but yet he somehow ends up saying, "I'm mostly free, I guess."

"Then you should let me buy you lunch," Chanyeol says easily, smiling at Jongin in a way that makes his heart traitorously skip a beat. "You can even draw more of my face, if you want."

Jongin groans. "Let that go, okay?" he pleads, even though the entire time they've been talking, Jongin has been trying to memorize the curve of his eyes, he smoothness of his lips. The way his brown hair falls almost effortlessly into his face. He's even burned the image of his hands clutching the case of beer, the thick black coat he's wearing and the scuff marks on his shoes. He's itching to go home and sketch everything out.

He wonders if that's all obvious on his face because Chanyeol is smirking at him. "Say yes," he says, and god, Jongin hates that he finds Chanyeol's easy confidence so attractive.

What he wants to ask is _why_ , _why do you even want to have lunch with me_ , _why do you care_ , but those words don’t come out. Instead he curses himself and the fact that Kyungsoo is always, always fucking right. “Fine,” he says, as grudgingly as he can because he doesn't want Chanyeol to think he's really interested. “Fine, I’ll go.”

The big, bright grin that Chanyeol gives him then almost, _almost_ , makes everything worth it.

Jongin doesn’t tell a soul about Chanyeol. He doesn’t need that sort of humiliation in his life. It’s humiliating enough that he let some stranger wheedle his way into successfully asking him out. Not that this is a date or anything. No. Jongin is just curious. Right.

Chanyeol had asked to meet him at the coffee shop where they’d first met the next day. Jongin gets there a little early, stopping inside to order a drink that can help fight the chill in his bones. He sits at a table by the window so he can see when Chanyeol comes and fiddles with his phone as he waits. He’s not nervous, definitely not, but he’s thankful that he doesn’t have to wait too long. 

There’s a slight rap at the window just beside his head, startling Jongin so much he drops his phone to the floor. Chanyeol is hiding a laugh behind a hand once Jongin hastily picks it up and turns to him. He’s wearing a black cap that says ILLEGAL across the front and that poofy jacket of his. He grins, and waves to Jongin to come outside, so Jongin heaves a deep breath and leaves the comfort of the shop. 

Chanyeol meets him by the door. “You really came,” he says, sounding simultaneously surprised and pleased. 

“I said I would,” Jongin replies, not quite meeting his eyes. He curls his gloved fingers around his styrofoam cup. 

“I’m glad,” Chanyeol says, and the soft tone of his voice sends a little shiver down Jongin’s spine. He blames it on the cold. Chanyeol tugs gently at the sleeve of his coat at his elbow, steering him around the corner. “Come on, I hope you like jeon.”

It’s a place Jongin’s been to before, which helps him relax quite a bit as they settle into chairs and shrug off their layers. Chanyeol pulls off his cap to ruffle his hair and then sets it back on, only backwards this time. It makes his ears stick out a little more but it suits him, Jongin thinks, before he quickly drops his eyes to the menu. It doesn’t take much time for them to order, and Jongin plays with the ends of his scarf as nervousness starts to coil in his stomach. 

“No sketchbook today?” Chanyeol asks him curiously. 

Jongin shakes his head. “I didn’t think it’d be nice to whip that out in the middle of lunch,” he says. Not to mention he doesn’t need Chanyeol to look through it and find more sketches of himself that Jongin has drawn from memory. 

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Chanyeol says. “Especially if you were gonna draw me.” 

Jongin bristles a little. He wishes Chanyeol would stop bringing that up, nevermind the fact that it is the reason they met. “Look,” he says carefully, “if the only reason you, uh, asked me out was to constantly make fun of me for that, I--”

“No! No,” Chanyeol says quickly, waving his hands dismissively. His eyes go a little wide. “I’m not trying to make fun of you, honest. I think it’s flattering.” He grins. “And I think your art is really cool. I can’t draw to save my life, so.” 

Jongin licks his lips. Some of the worry that had built up inside of him ever since he agreed to having lunch with Chanyeol fades away at his words. He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, thanks, I guess,” he says uncertainly. 

“Don’t be so nervous, Jongin,” Chanyeol says, and the sound of his name has Jongin’s chest a little warm. “It’s like you’ve never been on a date before.”

Fuck, so this is a date. Jongin fidgets uncomfortably and Chanyeol blinks at him, slow realization crossing over his face. 

“You haven’t?” he exclaims.

“Of course I have!” Jongin snaps. He slouches a little then, fists his hands into his jeans at his knees. “It’s just, well, been a long time.” He glances up at Chanyeol. “And I don’t even know you.” 

“We’ll just have to change that, won’t we?” Chanyeol claps his hands together delightedly Jongin wonders just what he’s gotten himself into. 

By the time their food arrives, Jongin learns a few things about Chanyeol. His confidence practically radiates off of him, he never seems to stop talking, and he is, to Jongin’s dismay, really, really cute. Jongin is not very good with people, least of all people he doesn’t know, but that doesn’t seem to bother Chanyeol at all. He directs the conversation with such ease that it isn’t long before Jongin is laughing amiably and not constantly worrying over every little thing. He is constantly distracted though, by the deep, pleasant sound of Chanyeol’s voice, the pink of his lips, the way his eyes get all bright when he laughs. 

“So are you gonna tell me the name of your manhwa, or am I gonna have to guess?” Chanyeol asks him halfway through their meal. He has some crumbs on the corner of his mouth that he licks off with the tip of his tongue, and Jongin has to tear his eyes away, reaching for his glass of water. 

He takes a quick sip and answers, “I think I’ll make you guess. It’s more fun that way.” 

Chanyeol pouts and Jongin wishes he would stop doing that. Then he straightens his back and says, “Fine. I’ll figure it out.” 

Jongin chuckles. “Good luck.” 

“If I get it right, you’ll let me take you out again,” Chanyeol suggests and the eagerness in his voice makes Jongin flush. 

“If you get it wrong?”

“You still let me take you again again.”

That startles a loud laugh out of Jongin, who wasn’t expecting that answer. He hides his mouth with a hand as he laughs, and Chanyeol’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before fading into something that makes heat curl up in the pit of Jongin’s belly. He’s smiling slowly, gaze impossibly warm, and Jongin has to focus on his food to get his heart to calm down. 

“That-That doesn’t seem fair,” Jongin manages to get out. He picks up a bit of kimchi jeon and pops it into his mouth. 

“I don’t know, it seems like a pretty good deal to me,” Chanyeol says. “So, give me a few hints at least, so I can narrow down my search.”

Jongin is not good at this, so he asks, “What do you want to know?” 

Chanyeol purses his lips and taps his fingertip against them as he thinks. Jongin sits back in his chair and watches him, amused. He is really cute, but he’s fun, too. He’s nice. He seems genuinely interested in Jongin, even if he does come on a little too strong. 

“Okay, is the main character a girl or boy?” he asks. 

“A girl.”

“Is this a high school story?”

Jongin hesitates. “Yes.” 

Chanyeol tilts his head at him, considers. “You write girly romance manhwa, don’t you?” 

“So what if I do?” Jongin replies as scathingly as he can manage, except he’s pretty sure it sounds more like a weak whine. 

Laughing, Chanyeol shakes his head and waves a hand at him again. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” he says, and he squints at Jongin. “I can see it.” 

That makes Jongin feel slightly uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly in his seat. He’s not sure how to reply so he just keeps quiet, focusing on finishing his lunch while Chanyeol pops a piece of jeon into his mouth and chews, brows knitted in thought. 

“Is this straight up high school romance or is there like, magic and evil witches and moon princesses?” he asks. 

Jongin snorts. “No, it’s not like Sailor Moon.” 

“Shame,” Chanyeol says. “That would’ve been cool.” 

“One last question,” Jongin says, and when Chanyeol frowns at him, he adds, “Can’t make it too easy for you.” He shrugs, drops his gaze to his plate again. 

“Fine, I’ll make the last one count,” Chanyeol says. He eats some more of his meal as he thinks and Jongin watches him curiously. He’s not so sure why Chanyeol seems to care so much, but it’s kind of...fun, this way, trying to make him guess. Chanyeol doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would know much about manhwa aside from One Piece or Gundam Wing, but Jongin has been in the business long enough to know that you can never tell. Like Jongin knew Kyungsoo for three years before he learned of his love of Prince of Tennis, but that might also be because Kyungsoo is exceptionally good at keeping secrets. 

“Okay,” Chanyeol says decisively a few minutes later, leaning toward Jongin almost conspiratorily as he gears up to ask his last question, “this is definitely important. Do you write the rated stuff?”

Jongin lets out a startled laugh, tilting his head back as his shoulders shake in amusement. “That’s your big question?” he gasps out, clutching at his stomach. His face feels warm and the way Chanyeol is looking at him like he did earlier, soft eyes, affectionate, almost, really doesn’t help one bit, but he can’t stop the grin that stretches across his lips. 

“Hey, I was trying to be clever. There’s not nearly as much of that rated stuff as there is the non-rated stuff,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin’s not sure how he knows that. “I was hoping you did because it’d narrow down the field, but I’m guessing from your reaction that you don’t.”

“I don’t,” Jongin confirms and Chanyeol curses under his breath. “Nice try, though.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Do you have an actual guess now?”

Chanyeol surprises him with a couple of decent guesses, even if Wild Forest Maiden is about a lesbian couple and Jongin’s story is not, and that SM Academy has all these monsters in it that Jongin hasn’t ever been interested in drawing. 

“Love in the Mask isn’t high school,” he points out with a laugh, “though it is a good story.” He peers at Chanyeol and asks, “How do you even know about all of these?”

Chanyeol rubs at his nose, his cheeks turning a little pink. Jongin is amazed, because in all the time they’ve spent together, though admittedly short, Chanyeol has never looked as embarrassed as he does right now. “I have an older sister,” he says and Jongin fails to stifle a laugh. He’s heard that before. “No! I really do. I haven’t actually read them myself!” 

“Sure,” Jongin says lightly as he lifts his glass of water for a drink. “Whatever you say.”

Chanyeol groans, rubs at his face. “Reading girly manhwa is not nearly as strange for a guy as it is for him to draw it,” he grumbles, and it’s clearly just a defensive comment but Jongin doesn’t find it all that funny. 

Actually, it kind of stings because Jongin has really enjoyed himself today, having lunch with Chanyeol and being able to talk about his work, however vaguely, without being judged for it. He didn’t think Chanyeol cared, it certainly seemed like he didn’t care, his comments and interest always genuine even if slightly invasive. But this, well. Jongin didn’t come here for this. 

He licks his lips and pushes his chair back, mutters, “I think it’s time for me to go.” 

The stricken look on Chanyeol’s face is enough for him to know Chanyeol really didn’t mean it, but that doesn’t make Jongin feel any better, truthfully. “No, wait, don’t go,” Chanyeol says even as Jongin stands and zips up his coat. 

“It was fun,” Jongin says, lightly shrugging as he wraps his scarf around his neck. “I’ll...see you, I guess.”

He leaves before the incredibly kicked-puppy look in Chanyeol’s eyes makes him sit back down again. It’s windy outside and Jongin stuff his hands into his pockets and barely makes it down the street before Chanyeol’s caught up with him, a firm hand grabbing his elbow to stop him. 

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says in a rush. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve heard it before,” Jongin says. He stares at the pavement instead of Chanyeol’s face. 

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Chanyeol says, “and I really am sorry. I don’t want to you leave, I was really having a good time.” 

Jongin can’t believe that he’s actually starting to forgive him, about maybe even letting Chanyeol take him wherever else he might have had planned for the day. Maybe it’s the warmth of his hand on his arm that’s distracting him, making him feel these ridiculous things. Jongin tugs his arm away and shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he tells him. “But I really should go home. I have a lot of work to do and--”

“Give me your number,” Chanyeol cuts in and when Jongin looks up at him, gaping, Chanyeol repeats his request more urgently. “Come on.” He holds out his phone for Jongin, who hesitates for a second before taking it. He keys in his number and hands it back and Chanyeol grins at him widely. “Since you clearly don’t want to call me, I’ll just have to call you,” he says. 

“Maybe that just means you can’t take a hint,” Jongin returns, frowning, but Chanyeol laughs and leans in close. 

“You wouldn’t have met me today if that’s what you really wanted,” he whispers into Jongin’s ear and Jongin face burns. He really hates how Chanyeol does that. 

“I’m leaving,” he says, turning on his heel and heading off toward his apartment and he really hates how he can’t help the grin that takes over his face when he hears Chanyeol shout, “I’ll call you!” after him.

A sharp pinching pain jolts Jongin awake, swatting at the back of his neck as he blinks out the sleep in his eyes.

"Awake now?" Kyungsoo says dryly, and he pinches the back of Jongin's neck again for good measure. “That’s the sixth time you’ve fallen asleep today, I think that’s a new record.” 

Jongin groans, rubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms. He blearily stares down at his workspace, the scattered pages from the newest chapter, the smudged ink along the shape of a body he was drawing when he must’ve dozed off. That probably means there’s ink on his face but he doesn’t care enough to get up and check. It happens a lot. 

“Where’s Yifan-hyung?” he asks, glancing around the studio. Kyungsoo’s space is neat and tidy as usual, while Yifan’s a little more of a mess. Jongin’s desk is the worst and it constantly gets on Kyungsoo’s nerves, but Jongin insists he knows where everything is and if Kyungsoo tries to clean up without his permission, then Jongin threatens to make a right disaster out of Kyungsoo’s area. It’s really the only way to keep him away. 

“He went to get some lunch for everyone,” Kyungsoo says, returning to his desk. “By the way, your phone has beeped like ten times and if you don’t turn it off or answer whoever is calling you, I’m throwing your phone out the window.” He smiles at Jongin who shudders slightly and nods, reaching for his phone that he set atop a small shelf against the back of his desk. 

“It’s probably just my mom,” Jongin mutters, because he hasn’t talked to her in awhile and she likes to call to make sure he eats and complain that he’s taking too long to release the next volume. Except when Jongin keys in his code and checks his messages, he has four new ones and none of them are from his mother. They’re all from Chanyeol. 

Jongin feels his face heat up instantly. It’s been a few days since their...date, and Jongin was still too uncertain about messaging Chanyeol first. What would he even say? When Chanyeol hadn’t called him or anything soon after, Jongin figured that was that. But now…

hey jongin, since i haven’t heard from you yet, i think i’ll take the first step here and text you. i get the feeling you’re a little shy, or something, but that’s totally okay. i think it’s cute. ;)

The heat in Jongin’s cheeks starts to spread down his neck. 

oh! how about girls of the wild?? that’s totally high school and the main character’s a chick, so it works. right?

i think you’re gonna have to give me some more hints

why are there so many high school manhwas in the first place???

Jongin laughs out loud at that, amused by the way Chanyeol is so determined to figure out what he’s written. He’s about to reply back to him that Girls of the Wild is a good guess, but not his, when his phone beeps again in his hands. He can feel Kyungsoo’s narrowed eyes on him, and his stomach coils slightly as he reads the newest message.

are you free right now? let’s get lunch!

“What was that about not being interested again?” Kyungsoo says, leaning over Jongin’s shoulder and speaking near his right ear. 

Jongin jerks away, slamming a hand to his ear and cringing. Kyungsoo straightens up, crossing his arms over his chest and looking terribly smug. Fuck.

"Don't say it--" Jongin starts.

"I told you so," Kyungsoo says and Jongin sighs, wonders why he even bothers. There's not much Kyungsoo likes more than being right. Except maybe the sounds Baekhyun makes when Kyungsoo chokeholds him, but that's something Jongin doesn't like to think about.

"We've only had lunch once," Jongin says weakly. "I'm not even sure that I _like_ him."

"Like who?" Yifan's voice questions as he appears from behind the door, a couple of takeout bags in his hand and snow in his hair. He kicks the door shut behind him and blinks at Jongin and Kyungsoo.

"No one," Jongin says quickly, but Kyungsoo spills everything without batting an eye.

Yifan grins at Jongin though, like he's proud or something, instead of amused like Kyungsoo. "That's good, isn't it?" he says, ruffling Jongin's hair as he passes by to the small table they have in the corner for dining. He sets the bags on top and shrugs out of his fur-collared coat. He's wearing terrible leather pants and Jongin doesn't understand how he stands it, in this cold.

"Why are you both so invested in my lovelife?" Jongin grumbles.

"Because you haven't _had_ one in years," Kyungsoo unhelpfully answers and Jongin wonders what Kyungsoo would do if he threw a shoe at his head. "And clearly he likes you, since he asked you out for lunch just now."

"He did?" Yifan says, and he frowns at Jongin apologetically. "I wouldn't have gotten you anything if I'd--"

"It's okay," Jongin waves him off. "We have a lot of work today. I'll tell him some other time." Even as he says it, he feels a little bad. But definitely not because he wants to see Chanyeol again or anything. Nope.

"Are you sure?" Yifan asks, looking genuinely concerned and Jongin nods.

"It's no big deal. Like I said, I don't even really _like_ him, I--"

"Stop lying and come eat," Kyungsoo cuts over him and Jongin glares at Kyungsoo's back before sighing.

He looks down at his phone and considers for a few long moments.

i'm busy this afternoon, but how about dinner?

He practically chews through his bottom lip before he finally plucks up enough courage to send it. Two seconds later, he grins slowly and adds:

and ur wrong again about the manhwa. if we meet tonight, i can give you more hints

Not even five minutes later does his phone beep again and Jongin snatches it off the table before Kyungsoo does.

dinner sounds great! how about around seven? meet me at this address. i'm looking forward to seeing you again ;)

Jongin licks his lips and sends back a quick i'll be there before setting his phone down.

"Awww, he's blushing," Kyungsoo says, overly sweet, and Yifan snickers, eyes amused.

Jongin would glare, or threaten to fire them, but for some reason he just feels a bit too happy and just ducks his head and focuses on eating and not on the fact that Chanyeol invited him to his own home tonight.

“Sorry I’m late,” Jongin says when Chanyeol opens the door for him later that evening.

Chanyeol shakes his head, smiling widely at Jongin before suddenly blinking and tilting his head. The reaction has Jongin a little self-conscious, but then Chanyeol says, “Glasses. I haven’t seen you with those before.” 

“Ah, yeah,” Jongin says, touches the frame of his black-rimmed glasses a little uncertainly. “My contacts were bothering me so I switched.”

“You look really cute in them,” Chanyeol says and Jongin refuses to blush. He refuses. “You should wear the glasses more.” His grins and reaches out to tug Jongin into his apartment. “Come on in, you look cold. I’m making some tea right now, unless you want something else?”

“T-Tea is fine,” Jongin says, surprised by Chanyeol’s warm welcome and complete ease. He takes a slow breath, trying to calm himself down and follows Chanyeol inside, hefting his backpack full of work stuff over his shoulder. He slips out of his shoes in the doorway. 

Chanyeol’s apartment is small, but much more inviting than Jongin's, which is nearly a mess everyday. Everything here seems to be right in it's place, from the line of sneakers in the doorway to the perfectly stacked CD and DVD cases on the tall shelf by the television. Jongin sets his backpack down on the couch and shrugs off his coat; Chanyeol takes it from him wordlessly to put away in the closet and then he's waving Jongin down the hall.

"I hope you're good with kimchi jjigae," Chanyeol says. "I would've made something a little more, but this is what I was craving."

"That sounds great," Jongin says, his stomach already rumbling from the delicious smell that greets him in the small kitchen. There's a table off to the side, a stack of colored paper and cut outs set at an end. Jongin thinks he catches a childishly drawn stick-figure on the top one, but turns back to Chanyeol because he doesn't want to poke around rudely.

Chanyeol catches his gaze though, and he flashes Jongin a bright smile as he heads to the stove to check on the simmering pot. Jongin walks over to lean by the counter next to him as he says, "Those are some drawings from my kids."

Jongin blinks, mouth falling open a bit. Chanyeol laughs at him, nudges his side with an elbow. "Not _my_ kids, exactly. But, that's what I call them. I'm a kindergarten teacher."

"How did I not know that about you?" Jongin exclaims, more surprised than he probably should be. He's wondered, of course, what Chanyeol does, but he never expected this. As he thinks about it, though, Chanyeol's kind smiles and easy confidence, it's fitting. He can almost see it, Chanyeol's excitable laughter as he runs around after some kids and helps them fingerpaint. The thought makes a slow burn settle in the pit of his stomach.

"You never asked," Chanyeol answers with a small laugh. "And besides, you won't tell me about your manhwa, so I had to keep something about myself a secret, too, right? Only fair."

"I don’t think it works like that," Jongin laughs. "And, you’re having fun trying to guess, so it’s not like it’s a big inconvenience to you."

“Good point,” Chanyeol says. “It really wasn’t Girls of the Wild? I thought that was a good guess.” He sighs exaggeratedly, and his lower lip juts out slightly as he stares down at the pot, gently stirring with a wooden spoon. 

“It was,” Jongin agrees. “But no, that’s not it.” 

"Just wait," Chanyeol says, pointing at Jongin with his spoon. "I'll figure it out."

Jongin laughs, backing away from Chanyeol so as to not end up with a messy shirt, and Chanyeol grins at him before turning back. The itch is there again, to draw him, to get the curve of his eyes right or the way he can really see his hair without a hat being in the way. He looks really nice, in black skinny jeans that only emphasis the length of his legs, and a cozy-looking black sweater. Jongin feels a little awkward in his pair of jeans and, oh god, a Pikachu t-shirt, but Chanyeol doesn't seem like he cares, so Jongin tries not to either.

He helps Chanyeol get out bowls and utensils, setting them up on the table before retrieving some mugs from the cupboard Chanyeol points to above the sink. Chanyeol hands him the kettle and tells him where the tea bags are, and Jongin is glad for something to do to distract him from the nervousness that just won't leave his body.

He fills their cups and sets the kettle back on the stove, adds in the tea bags and settles down in a chair at the table. The stack of papers from earlier catches his eye again, and he figures it's okay to look now, so he sifts through them slowly, a grin slowly tugging at his lips. There are many crudely drawn pictures of what seem to be families and houses, and a few of them even include a tall looking figure with the word "teacher" scribbled (mostly incorrectly) above it.

"These are adorable," Jongin says, and Chanyeol chuckles.

"True artistic talents in the making, right there," he says. "There's a few of them who want to do what you do."

"Well, it is a great job," Jongin says, grinning at Chanyeol over his shoulder before turning back. "I used to draw on everything when I was little. It'd drive my parents crazy." He puffs out a laugh at himself and shakes his head. "I still do that, though. Drawing on napkins and newspaper margins all the time."

"Drawing strangers you see at coffee shops?" Chanyeol asks, a slight smirk to his lips as he appears with the pot of jjigae, setting it atop a placeholder in the center of the table. He tells Jongin to help himself, and then heads back into the kitchen for something else. Jongin reaches for Chanyeol's bowl first and serves him, then himself, and Chanyeol returns with some sugar and milk for their tea.

Even though Jongin is still incredibly nervous, their dinner is not awkward or unpleasant. Chanyeol really has a way about him that makes Jongin feel comfortable, like they've known each other for years instead of a few short weeks. They talk easily about Chanyeol's work, how he came home the other day with glue in his hair and paint on his clothes, about Jongin's tendency to fall asleep in the middle of drawing and how he gets scolded by Kyungsoo on a daily basis. Chanyeol fires out questions about his manhwa randomly, like maybe Jongin will blurt out the name on his own. But Jongin is careful because he likes the way Chanyeol's brows furrow in concentration, the way his tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth.

Actually, no, he doesn't like that last bit at all. Not. At. All.

But he might like the way Chanyeol flushes half-embarrassed, half-pleased when Jongin compliments his dinner, eagerly spooning up mouthfuls and sighing in bliss. He catches Chanyeol staring at him across the table at one such moment, looking a little dazed, but he snaps out of it when Jongin waves a hand in front of his face. The slight pink in his cheeks only deepens then and he looks down quickly at his food and Jongin's not sure what sort of reaction that is, but he's glad he's not the only one who gets flustered.

They end up in the living room later, Jongin graciously accepting a beer that Chanyeol hands him. Chanyeol sits almost too close on the couch, his knee bumping against Jongin's, and Chanyeol channel surfs aimlessly as they talk.

Jongin listens as he surveys the room, learning little things about Chanyeol from the guitar resting beside the bookshelf, what looks like the entire Beenzino discography, and the picture of him and a familiar puppy framed on the television stand.

"Is that your puppy?" he asks, pointing at the picture and realizing he hasn't actually seen anything in the apartment that suggests Chanyeol has a pet.

"Nah," he says, shaking his head. "It's my older sister's. I look after him sometimes."

"He's cute," Jongin says, smiling at the picture.

"Not me?" Chanyeol asks with a pout and he nudges Jongin's knee slightly.

Jongin squints at him, assessing, and tilts his head. Chanyeol slowly glowers, and reaches out to swat at Jongin's shoulder. It surprises a laugh out of him, that stupid high-pitched one of his that he can never help, and Chanyeol's expression fades back into a similar look like the one he'd given Jongin over dinner.

Then he laughs, too, swatting at Jongin's knee this time. "And I say you're cute all the time," he whines, like Jongin makes him say it or something. He glances askance at him, and adds, "But then, you really are."

Jongin groans, heat climbing up the back of his neck. "Is that how you get all your dates?" he asks, surprised a bit at himself at the question, but he blames it on his second beer.

"Maybe," Chanyeol says. "It's worked with you."

"Who says it was your flattery?" Jongin returns.

"Then it must be my handsome face, right?" Chanyeol says with a laugh. "Do you have more drawings of me?"

Jongin shifts slightly, and doesn't quite meet his eyes. His reaction has Chanyeol smirking slowly, and leaning in toward him as he throws an arm around Jongin's shoulders. Jongin swallows thickly, licking his lips and he doesn't miss the way Chanyeol's eyes dart down to his mouth before flicking back up. His arm feels warm against Jongin's shoulders and his heart rate quickens in his chest. He takes another sip of his drink and tries not to be too obvious as he moves away a bit.

Chanyeol doesn't seem like he minds, leaning back against the couch and stretching his long legs out under the coffee table. "So you do," he says. "Can I see?"

"No," Jongin blurts out quickly. He reaches out to set his bottle on the coffee table and stands. "Maybe another time?"

"You're heading home already?" Chanyeol asks, getting to his feet as well. He looks a little put out. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Jongin waves a hand at him. "Yeah, of course, I'm not drunk or anything," he says. He picks up his bag from the end of the couch and heads for the door. Chanyeol heads around him to pull his coat from the closet and Jongin shrugs it on, along with his shoes.

"I'm really glad you came," Chanyeol says after Jongin's stepped into the hall. He leans against his door, looking long and lean and annoyingly handsome. "I had a good time."

"Me, too," Jongin says, shifting his backpack more comfortably onto his shoulders. He chews the inside of his cheek as he considers, then adds, "Maybe next time--"

"You can make us dinner?" Chanyeol says, and he looks terribly hopeful.

"I was gonna say I'll treat you," Jongin says, fiddling with the hem of his coat. "I'm not exactly the best cook and--"

"Jongin," Chanyeol cuts in suddenly, and Jongin stumbles slightly as Chanyeol tugs him close by his jacket sleeve. Jongin's eyes widen as he stares up at Chanyeol's face, close, almost too close, and this is like something straight out of a manhwa, the way Chanyeol smiles at him warmly before he closes the distance between them. His lips are soft and smooth against his own and it only lasts a few seconds, but Jongin's heart is threatening to burst out of his chest, and he can practically see the SFX flashing in his head.

Jongin hates how dazed he feels when Chanyeol pulls away, a wide grin on his face as he slips the hand from Jongin's sleeve down to gently squeeze his wrist. "Um," Jongin says, licking his lips. 

“Don’t do that,” Chanyeol whines, “or I’ll want to kiss you again.” 

Jesus. When did Jongin’s life start to mimic his work? He’s pretty sure that’s a line from his own manhwa. He laughs, incredulous, and presses his hands to his cheeks. “I-I’m gonna...go,” he says, “yeah.”

Chanyeol reaches out to zip up Jongin’s coat all the way to his chin and grins at Jongin’s futile protests. “Cute,” he says, and ruffles Jongin’s hair lightly. “Goodnight, Jongin.” 

“I-I’ll call you,” Jongin says, and before he can talk himself out of it, he leans up and kisses Chanyeol again once. He flushes deeply at the surprise in Chanyeol’s eyes, and he waves quickly before heading down the hall.

"Where are you at with the latest chapters?" Junmyeon's irritated voice blares through the phone and makes Jongin's ears bleed.

Jongin rolls over in bed with a groan, pulls a pillow over his head.

"Jongin? Are you there?"

"No," he grumbles, "I've died. Goodbye, Junmyeon."

" _Jongin_."

"Hyung, it is six in the morning."

"No, Jongin, it's six in the evening," Junmyeon says slowly. Jongin imagines him pinching the bridge of his nose as he pulls his phone from his ear to peer at the screen. Oh. So it is six in the evening.

"It's Tuesday?" he asks, and Junmyeon lets out the most upsetting sigh Jongin's ever heard.

"Maybe you really have died," Junmyeon says. "Have you done any work this past weekend?"

"Of course I did," Jongin says, rolling over again and pulling his blankets up around him. "I finished a thing."

"A thing."

Shit. Jongin probably shouldn't have mentioned that.

"Does this thing include sketches of a certain man you went out with the other day?"

Yes, is the truthful answer. That Jongin somehow ended up drawing a short, five-page story of a character that looks strikingly like Chanyeol teaching a group of small children sometime in the last 72 hours. That's pretty much all he _remembers_ doing, and he's actually a little concerned about his actual work.

"No," Jongin eventually says. He scratches his stomach and yawns audibly.

"Do you enjoy causing me trouble?" Junmyeon says.

"Yes," Jongin answers instantly, defiant. He's glad Junmyeon isn't here, otherwise he'd be getting a smack across the head.

"Get out of bed, Jongin," Junmyeon says. "Get to work. I'm going to stop over tomorrow to morning to see your progress."

"Fine, fine," Jongin says, making no effort to move at all.

"And if you're so bent on drawing your boyfriend, please just get it out of your system now so you can focus."

Jongin opens his mouth to instinctively insist that Chanyeol's not his boyfriend, except that's definitely what they are, remembering the way Chanyeol had said it casually over breakfast Sunday morning. He flushes at the memory, the way Chanyeol had walked him back to his apartment afterward, and pressed a fleeting kiss to his forehead before running off down the sidewalk. He'd glanced back at Jongin over his shoulder, waving at him and grinning widely, that furry hat of his slightly lopsided on his head, and Jongin had felt so warm, so inexplicably giddy, that he'd ended up drawing a Chanyeol-oneshot instead of his actual manhwa.

"How do you suggest I do that?"

"Just ask him?" Junmyeon says, like Jongin is an idiot.

"I can't do that," Jongin insists. What does Junmyeon expect him to do? Shout it at Chanyeol a la Kira in MARS? Jongin blinks at the ceiling, and realizes if he did ask Chanyeol to lend him his body, Chanyeol would really be more than happy to do it. He groans, scrubs at his face. "Okay, I'm hanging up now," he says, because he can't think about this anymore. He needs sleep. Or food.

"Get some work done. Please," Junmyeon manages to say before Jongin hangs up, dropping his phone to the side of the bed.

It takes him awhile, but he finally climbs out of bed and heads to his desk in the other room. He finds his Chanyeol-story, feels his face heat up at the images he's drawn. He really can't believe he did this. It's not exactly bad, either, and if Junmyeon sees it, he might be compelled to add it in as an extra in the next volume. Chanyeol would definitely love that, Jongin's sure, but he's determined to keep this a secret for as long as possible.

He's glad to find that he _did_ get some work done over the weekend. Nearly the full chapter, thankfully. He should head to the studio to get some more done, especially since he's sure he'll fall right back asleep if he stays too close to his bed.

After a quick shower, Jongin packs up his things and bundles up for the cold. He’s barely made it a block before his phone rings, and he’s mostly expecting it to be Junmyeon checking to make sure he actually got out of bed. He’s pleased, however, to find it’s Chanyeol, smiling at the ground as he answers the call and heads carefully down the streets.

“Hey, I wanted to see your face,” Chanyeol says, his words and his deep voice making Jongin’s stomach flutter a bit. “Are you busy?

“I-I’m heading to my studio right now, I--”

“Oh, great, where is it, I'll meet you there!” Chanyeol says excitedly.

Jongin would much rather spend the evening with Chanyeol than work on his manhwa, but he knows he has to get things done before Junmyeon attacks him tomorrow. “Wait--”

“I promise I won't get in the way if you're working. I have some things I need to do, too,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin just knows he’s pouting. “And I want to see your studio, I bet it's cool.”

It’s really not, but that still won’t stop Chanyeol from trying to come over. And, well, Jongin wants to see him, too. He sighs. “All right,” he says. “I’ll text you the address. I was gonna stop to get something to eat, do you want anything?”

“Whatever you're having is good with me!” Chanyeol says. “See you soon, Jongin.”

Jongin texts Chanyeol the address of his studio and stops by a nearby jjajangmyeon place to get the two of them dinner. By the time he makes it to his studio, Chanyeol is already waiting outside, teetering back and forth on his feet, hands stuffed into his pockets, a leather briefcase hanging from his elbow. Tucked into his other arm, there’s a large rolled up sheet of what looks to be poster paper.

Chanyeol’s face lights up when he sees him, striding over quickly and greeting Jongin with a kiss to his cheek. Jongin lightly pushes at his chest, and Chanyeol laughs happily. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long,” Jongin says, leading the way into the office building and up the stairs to his studio. He’s pretty sure Kyungsoo and Yifan won’t be there but now he’s wishing he’d called ahead to make sure so they could’ve left before he brought Chanyeol over.

“Nah, got here like five minutes ago,” Chanyeol says.

Thankfully the studio is empty when they get in, Jongin flicking on the lights and quickly scanning the room for anything that might give away his pen name and manhwa. Kyungsoo’s cleanliness seems to have saved him in that aspect, the giant whiteboard they keep on the wall with plot lines and details now wiped clean, save for the date for their next deadline in the corner in red with a strange image of something that looks like a dog next to it. Jongin’s pretty sure that was drawn by Yifan and he laughs at it as he passes it to his desk.

“Well, this is it,” Jongin says, gesturing grandly to the room. “There’s not much really.”

“It’s nice,” Chanyeol says, setting his things down on the small loveseat by the window. There’s an empty space in front of it where Jongin had set up lots of large pillows and blankets when he’d first gotten the studio and ended up sleeping on the couch (and sometimes the floor) a lot the night before deadlines instead of going back home. Chanyeol flops down onto one of the Totoro pillows, leaning back against the bottom of the couch, and pats the space beside him.

Laughing, Jongin joins him, lets Chanyeol cup a hand around the back of his neck and and draw him in for a slow kiss that sends a pleasant hum through Jongin’s veins. Chanyeol's fingers play with the short hairs at his nape and Jongin sighs into his mouth, enjoying the way their mouths fit together. He thinks he could probably be content with this, because it's definitely more appealing than spending a night slaving over his work, but he knows he should get to that before Chanyeol manages to distract him much longer.

The tiny noise of protest Chanyeol makes when Jongin pulls back almost makes Jongin give in, but he just laughs softly and pecks Chanyeol once more before turning away. "Dinner!" he declares, scrambling up to his feet to grab the bags of takeout he'd set on his desk.

Chanyeol sighs loudly, flopping out across the pillows and Jongin pokes his knee with a toe when he returns. He sits back up slowly, reaches out to tug Jongin down next to him again and rifles through the bag, handing Jongin a box and taking the other for himself.

"You know, I was hoping there'd be something here that'd give away what you're working on," Chanyeol says around a mouthful. He glances around the room, eyes narrowed like it's the fault of the many posters Jongin has put up that they don't tell him what he wants to know.

"I spend enough time on my work that I don't need to plaster the walls with my own stuff," Jongin says.

"So you picked Digimon and Beyblade instead?" Chanyeol snickers, pointing at the two posters hung by the table in the corner.

Jongin flushes and sucks around his chopsticks. "Those are classics, okay," he huffs and Chanyeol laughs, holds his hands up placatingly.

"You're the expert here," he says.

Jongin wants to point out that Chanyeol knows an awful lot about high school manhwa than the average person, but he just shrugs and keeps it to himself, focuses in on his dinner. They eat quietly, Chanyeol occasionally asking him about how much time he spends in the studio, about Kyungsoo and Yifan. He tells Jongin about how his kids thought it would be funny to scream every time he tried to teach them something. Jongin enjoys listening to him talk, Chanyeol’s low voice settling in the pit of his stomach and spreading throughout his veins soothingly. The way he smiles widely and his face gets a little scrunched up, the way he slaps a hand to his knee when he laughs, and even how he watches Jongin so intently when he speaks, Jongin tries to memorize everything so he can put it to paper later.

It's interesting to have someone around while Jongin's working that’s not Kyungsoo, Yifan or Junmyeon. When he's not with them, he usually works alone. Chanyeol's presence is nice, somehow relaxing even if he's also incredibly distracting. Not because he's bothering Jongin, but because Jongin can't stop thinking about him, discreetly glancing over his shoulder to see what he's doing. He hums softly to himself as he works on his project, a familiar Jason Mraz tune that Jongin likes, too, and it's comfortable, like this. It's been a long time since Jongin has found someone he feels this way around.

He's in the middle of doing some touch ups on his computer when warm hands slide over his shoulder and around his chest. Chanyeol notches his chin atop Jongin's head and Jongin grins at his screen, continuing to work.

"Can I help you?" he asks.

"Actually, you can," Chanyeol replies, surprising Jongin who just figured Chanyeol got bored of working and wanted a distraction. He glances at him over his shoulder because Chanyeol is holding onto him so securely it makes it a little difficult to move. Chanyeol smiles at him and says, “Remember how I said I can’t draw to save my life?”

“Yes?” Jongin says slowly.

“Well, it’s a good thing I have an artistic boyfriend who can help me out, then, right?” He’s giving Jongin terribly adorable puppy eyes that makes him laugh, reaching up to pat one of Chanyeol’s hands.

“Okay, okay, let me see,” he says, and Chanyeol cheers, letting Jongin go in favor of throwing his arms up in the air. Jongin joins Chanyeol on the floor again where he’s spread out that giant poster paper, has the corners pinned down with his bag and coat, a tape dispenser and stapler that he stole off Yifan’s desk. Across the top in large characters, he’s written _what is your dream?_ but the rest of the poster is blank. Jongin can see some light pencil marks in the corners that have been furiously erased and he wonders what Chanyeol had tried to draw before giving up and asking for help.

“I want the kids to talk about their dreams and stuff and thought we could put them all up on a poster to hang in the room,” Chanyeol says, rubbing the back of his head and staring at the poster. “I wanted to draw some images to make it less...boring, but.”

“You can’t draw,” Jongin says.

“Right,” he says meekly. “Help?” He pouts at Jongin.

“Only because you’re cute,” Jongin says, the words spilling out of his mouth before he realizes it. Heat fills his face, and Chanyeol’s mouth opens a bit in shock, but then he’s grinning widely and slinging an arm around Jongin’s shoulders, pulls him into his chest. Jongin squawks embarrassedly, elbowing his way out of Chanyeol’s grasp, but he’s laughing. “Let me go,” he chides, “I’ll get some markers and things.”

Chanyeol reluctantly pulls away and Jongin climbs to his feet to retrieve a bunch of utensils from the closet by the door. He spreads them out across the floor and lies down on his stomach, chuckling at the way Chanyeol’s eyes widen as he takes in all the different kinds of markers and colored pencils. Jongin hands him a handful of them and says, “I’ll draw, you color.”

They get to work. Jongin gets highly offended when Chanyeol colors what’s supposed to be a doctor’s face in purple, and then proceeds to give him an orange lab coat. (“I teach five year olds, they won’t care!” Chanyeol insists, but Jongin glares at him until he drops the colors to the floor, pouting.) It’s fun, definitely more entertaining than what Jongin should be working on. Chanyeol is enthusiastic and constantly complimenting Jongin’s skills, but gives Jongin a look when he draws a Pikachu in the corner. (“Do you think my kids are gonna tell me they want to be Pikachu when they’re older?!” Chanyeol exclaims. “Better Pikachu than a purple-skinned doctor in an orange lab coat!” Jongin says, screeching loudly when Chanyeol retaliates with his fingers at Jongin’s sides.)

Jongin draws a couple of fun images of different possible dream jobs that Chanyeol’s kids will probably say like a firefighter, a chef, and a princess. Chanyeol colors them in with the same artistic capability as Jongin had seen in his kids’ drawings, but his eagerness is adorable so Jongin doesn’t hold it against him. How can he really, when Chanyeol finishes with a flourish and stares at Jongin with big, hopeful eyes, waiting for Jongin to praise him. That first starts out as kind words, but then Chanyeol claims a kiss for every colored image (“This is hard work okay, I demand a reward!”) and soon they’re spending more time softly making out amongst the pillows over the floor than working at all.

“I should’ve known this would happen when I said you could come over,” Jongin says, even as he smiles into Chanyeol’s chest. He’s warm against him, his arms wrapped loosely around his waist delightfully comforting. “Junmyeon’s gonna kill me tomorrow.”

Chanyeol squeezes him and slowly pulls back. “Should I go?” he asks.

He probably _should_ , but that’s not what Jongin wants. “Stay,” he says quietly, then adds quickly, “I mean, if you want to. I should get back to work, though, at least. Do you think your poster is done?”

“It’s the best poster ever,” Chanyeol says excitedly. “Thank you.” He drops a kiss to Jongin’s forehead and then lets him go entirely. “Since you’ve helped me work, I’ll help you.”

Jongin laughs as he gets to his feet and stretches his arms over his head. He enjoys the way Chanyeol’s gaze locks onto the slight stripe of skin that peaks out under the hem of his shirt. “How?” he asks, amused. “I think we’ve already figured out the extent of your artistic abilities.”

“I’ll get you coffee?” Chanyeol says, finally tearing his eyes up to Jongin’s face.

“Well, that’s a good start,” Jongin says, dropping his arms to his sides and holding them out to help Chanyeol up. “Thanks,” he says, and Jongin’s pretty sure he means that for more than just the coffee, but the other things are just too hard to say. Chanyeol grins brightly at him, and the look in his eyes is almost like he knows, and he pulls Jongin into a hug until Jongin elbows him to let him go.

Jongin doesn't date a lot, and it's been since a long time since he was in anything resembling a long-term commitment that he feels ridiculously like one of the high school characters in one of the manhwas all the teenage girls read, where they fumble over their words and awkwardly hold hands on dates. Jongin is turning into an exact replica of Jiyun, the main character of his own manhwa.

Chanyeol is usually the one to suggest dates, to text Jongin first, and to make plans. Jongin doesn't mind it, he finds Chanyeol's enthusiasm cute, and besides, Jongin wouldn't know what to do, anyway. Maybe Chanyeol can see that, maybe he's sparing him. Or maybe, like everything Chanyeol does, he's just confident. Jongin's only ever been confident in his art. His people-skills are subpar, at best.

But he really likes Chanyeol, and he doesn't want to screw this up. So he pushes aside the anxiousness and calls Chanyeol one evening when he's been holed up in his apartment all weekend as an order from Junmyeon and is starting to get a severe case of cabin fever. It's a little late on a Sunday, but maybe Chanyeol hasn't eaten dinner yet, and Jongin gnaws his lower lip as he rings him up.

"Hey!" Chanyeol answers his call excitedly. "How's it going? Have you finished your work for the weekend?"

Jongin smiles. He likes how Chanyeol remembers. He'd texted him on Friday, telling him about the house arrest and Chanyeol had sent him a message filled with encouraging words and emoticons. "I'm going crazy sitting here. I was, uh, wondering if you wanted to get dinner?" Jongin says.

"I'm actually just eating with a few friends," Chanyeol says and Jongin stomach plummets. He can hear now, the hushed voices in the background.

"Oh, well, nevermind--"

"Don't be stupid, come join us," Chanyeol says. "We'll be here awhile longer anyway. Jongdae eats like a horse and makchang takes forever to cook so."

Jongin hears a harried _Hey!_ in the background, and then Chanyeol's rumbling laughter in his ear. He chews his lip again, considering.

"Come on," Chanyeol says softly, his voice dropping the way it does whenever he likes to rile Jongin up, whispering into his ear and playfully dipping fingers up under his shirt. "It'll be fun. And my friends don't bite. Mostly."

That makes Jongin laugh. He wanted to see Chanyeol anyway, and even if the prospect of meeting his friends is a little daunting, Jongin figures he can deal with it. "Okay, give me a bit to get ready and I'll meet you," he says.

The Hongdae restaurant is pretty crowded for a Sunday evening and Chanyeol comes to find him by the door when Jongin arrives. He greets him with a wide grin, takes his wrist to pull him through to a table towards the back, already occupied with two other men. Jongin's stomach twists into knots and he hopes he doesn't look as anxious as he feels.

"Jongin, these are two of my friends, Jongdae and Lu Han," Chanyeol says, as they settle into seats side by side.

Jongin waves slightly at them, licking his lips, but before he even gets a chance to say hello, the man sitting across from Chanyeol, Jongdae, leans forward with interested eyes and a quirk to his lips.

"So _you're_ Jongin," he says, his gaze darts up and down and then settle back on Jongin's face. "Chanyeol practically never shuts up about you."

Jongin feels his face grow hot. Jongdae yelps suddenly, reeling back, and it's clear that Chanyeol has just kicked him under the table. Jongin bites down a smile as he glances at his boyfriend, surprised to see Chanyeol's ears a little red. He turns back to Jongdae, grinning. He rarely has an opportunity to see Chanyeol embarrassed. "Does he now?" he asks, and Lu Han barks out a laugh as Chanyeol gives Jongin a betrayed look.

Jongdae, however, looks pleased. "It's pretty annoying," he says with a sigh. "And he's been so keen on not letting us meet you."

"I don't like to share," Chanyeol says, and he settles a hand on Jongin's knee just under the table.

"Then you shouldn't go off on how cute your boyfriend is all the damn time," Lu Han says before he takes a sip of his beer. "Even if it's true." He flashes Jongin a grin and Jongin laughs, rubs his nose.

"Fuck, I'm regretting this now," Chanyeol says, and Jongin slides a hand down to squeeze his on his knee briefly before letting go.

It's a good evening. Jongin gets excited when he learns of Lu Han's shared interest in football, even if his taste is questionable, and they chat long and hard over their favorite players and about the World Cup starting in the summer. Jongdae asks a lot of prying, invasive questions, the kind that get more aimed kicks from Chanyeol to his shins, but Jongin finds he doesn't mind. There's a sort of playfulness to him that reminds Jongin of Baekhyun, and he thinks Chanyeol would get along with him pretty well, too. Chanyeol meeting Jongin's friends, though, is something he hasn't really thought about, so he pushes the idea away for now, and settles in on the warmth of Chanyeol's hand on his leg that rarely leaves the whole night.

Apparently Chanyeol has enlisted their help to figure out Jongin's manhwa as well, and it isn't long before both Jongdae and Lu Han are asking him about it, looking more interested than Jongin would've expected.

"Is there a love triangle?" Jongdae asks curiously.

Jongin laughs, shaking his head. "Nope."

"What! There's always a love triangle," Jongdae exclaims. He takes a bite of his meal and chews, brows furrowed, and then asks, "Does someone get hit by a car? Get cancer?"

"I think you've been watching too many Korean dramas, Jongdae," Chanyeol laughs as Jongin answers in the negative again.

Jongdae frowns, slumping back in his seat and staring at Jongin with narrowed eyes like he's certain Jongin's lying. Lu Han pats his shoulder and says, "Vampires?"

"No, again," Jongin chuckles. "I think you're thinking too hard about this. Maybe I should just tell you."

"Not yet," Chanyeol says firmly. "I refuse to admit defeat."

"I thought the whole guessing thing was just a way to ask me out again," Jongin says as they leave the restaurant a while later, full to their stomachs. They say goodbye outside, Lu Han snagging Jongin away from Chanyeol with an arm around his shoulders to exchange numbers so they can talk more about football sometime. Chanyeol offers to take Jongin home, so Jongin follows him out to his car, walking slowly down the street.

Chanyeol laughs. "It sort of started that way, maybe," he says. "But clearly that doesn't matter since we're dating already anyway." He grins at Jongin. "I like guessing though. Keeps things interesting."

"Are you afraid you'll suddenly find me boring?" Jongin says, meaning to sound light and teasing, but it's probably clear on his face that he's a little apprehensive of the answer.

"You?" Chanyeol says as they get into his car. "I don't think so." He leans across the console to kiss Jongin swiftly on the mouth. "God, I was dying to do that all night."

Jongin flushes and Chanyeol ruffles his hair before he starts up the car. They drive mostly in silence, listening to the radio instead of speaking, and Jongin enjoys the way Chanyeol sings loudly and sometimes obnoxiously to the girl groups songs, nudging Jongin into singing with him.

"I'm glad you came tonight," Chanyeol says when they arrive at Jongin's apartment and Jongin is contemplating about inviting Chanyeol up. Maybe, if he was a little bolder, he could do it, or if his apartment wasn't a mess and he didn't still have work to do. If the stacks of his manhwa on the coffee table wouldn’t give away their game; Chanyeol would definitely hate losing that easily.

"Me too," Jongin says honestly. "Your friends are nice."

"They liked you," Chanyeol says, sounding proud for a moment before his face darkens. "Lu Han liked you a _lot_." He frowns and Jongin laughs, the slight jealousy in his tone settling warm in his belly. It's nice, he thinks, that kind of possessiveness.

"I liked him a lot, too," Jongin says airily, and tries not to laugh harder at the way Chanyeol glares. "He's cute. I'm glad he gave me his number."

"Hey," Chanyeol says, somewhere between a whine and a warning. He leans forward, reaching out with a hand to grip the back of Jongin's neck, draw him in closer. "I'm cooler than he is," he says seriously. "And definitely more handsome."

Jongin bites his lower lip but it doesn't help the pull in his cheeks as he struggles not to laugh. "I'm not so sure," he teases and Chanyeol sighs, hanging his head, his hair flopping down into his eyes.

"You're so mean to me, Jongin," he says, and Jongin finally gives into his amusement, chuckling softly as he threads his fingers gently through Chanyeol's hair.

"Yeah, but you still like me," Jongin says, without thinking, and he feels his heart rate quicken because even if it’s obvious, even if he knows, he’s still always a little unsure. Things have fallen together so easily with Chanyeol, and Jongin sometimes thinks it’s too good to be true. Jongin sometimes feels a bit like Sunako around Kyohei (just without all the nosebleeds), because Chanyeol is too bright, too confident and Jongin doesn’t know how to deal with that. He bites his lip as Chanyeol raises his head to fix him with a surprisingly intense look, and before Jongin can break the stifling tension, Chanyeol is pressing forward to kiss him.

"Yeah, I do," he says afterward, leaving Jongin panting and more flushed than he should be. The worry in his veins has faded away though, replaced by a soft simmer of pleasure and ease. Chanyeol smiles at him, tugs at Jongin's chin and pecks him on the mouth once more for good measure. "Goodnight," he says. "Go get some work done, lazy."

Jongin half-heartedly punches him in the arm and Chanyeol's laugh fills up his whole car and rings in Jongin's ears long after he leaves.

“Sehun, get off of me, I need to finish these pages before Junmyeon-hyung gets here in ten minutes,” Jongin grumbles, elbowing his friends in the ribs to try to get him off his back. They’re lying on the floor of Jongin’s studio, Sehun having stopped by for who even knows what reason, probably just to be a nuisance to Jongin and Kyungsoo and flirt strangely with Yifan. Unfortunately Yifan hadn’t come in yet, otherwise Sehun would be over at the other end of the room bothering him, and Jongin is tempted to text him to get him to hurry the fuck up.

“I’m comfy here,” Sehun says, lying halfway across Jongin’s back, his cheek pressed up between his shoulder blades. He sounds sleepy. Jongin is getting a crink in his neck.

“Go bother Kyungsoo,” Jongin says and Kyungsoo gives him a look from where he’s hunched over his desk.

“He’d stab me with a pen or something,” Sehun says, which is probably true.

Jongin sighs, rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms and tries to focus on his work and the clock ticking obnoxiously in his head that Junmyeon will be here any minute to yell at him and--

“Look who I found outside,” says Junmyeon, pushing aside the door as Jongin looks up from his pages curiously. His heart stops when he finds Chanyeol stepping into the studio, a sheepish smile on his face. Junmyeon looks terribly amused as he stares down at Jongin, and Jongin is not sure what’s worse: dealing with Junmyeon bitching about a missed deadline or having to unexpectedly introduce Chanyeol to his closest friends.

“Hey, Jongin,” Chanyeol says, peering down at him curiously. His expression is a little dark, and Jongin can tell he’s looking at Sehun more than him, now that Sehun’s turned himself around from all the noise to see what’s going on.

“Oh, it’s the boyfriend,” Sehun says.

“What’re you doing here?” Jongin asks, hoping he doesn’t sound as panicky to everyone else as he does to himself. He tries to nudge Sehun away again, but Sehun just clings to him even more. 

“I brought lunch,” he says, looking back at Jongin again as he raises a brown paper bag. “Thought you might like a break.” He smiles at him, rubs the back of his neck with his other and. “I kinda forgot if this was the right place when I ran into your editor outside. He said he recognized me.”

“Yes, we can all recognize you,” Kyungsoo speaks up, and Jongin mentally groans from the clear intrigue in his voice. “From the pages and pages of sketches Jongin has of your face.”

“Definite likeness,” Junmyeon agrees, tilting his head at Chanyeol, who laughs a little embarrassedly. That surprises Jongin, because Chanyeol is rarely embarrassed. “I'd thought Jongin’s sketches were good since those ones he did at the park but--”

“Wait, what?” Chanyeol asks, blinking at Junmyeon.

Jongin knocks Sehun over as he struggles to get up, eyes wide as he whines, “ _Hyung_.”

“Oh,” Junmyeon says, slowly catching on. “You didn’t tell him about that? Oops.” He doesn’t look very remorseful, just amused, failing to hide the quirk of a smile as he leaves Chanyeol’s side and heads to the small couch and flops down onto it. Sehun, looking quite miffed about losing Jongin as his personal body pillow, climbs up next to him to utilize Junmyeon’s shoulder instead.

Chanyeol’s eyes are on him, warm and curious, and Jongin pulls his knees to his chest and hides his face in his hands. “It was before we met…” Jongin starts slowly, “I saw you…at a park…I drew some sketches because that's what I do, I never actually thought I'd see you again, oh my god, it’s weird isn't it, I'm sorry, that’s why I never mentioned it or--”

“Jongin,” Chanyeol says, cutting across him. He sounds much closer than before, and Jongin peeks through his fingers to find him crouching down in front of him, pushing aside Jongin’s work so as to not ruin it. He reaches out and tugs Jongin’s hands from his face, and he’s grinning. “It’s okay,” he says, and he laughs a bit. “Yeah, it’s a little weird, but I already know you’re kind of weird, so.”

“Wow, he’s a keeper, Jongin,” Sehun says, staring at Chanyeol with interest. “No one puts up with your weird.”

Jongin wants to bite back _you do_ , but Chanyeol says, “Who are you?”

“Sehun,” he says with a slight shrug. “The weird one's best friend. It's nice to actually meet you. When Jongin mentioned he had a boyfriend it was hard to believe, since he hasn't had one in years.”

Jongin wills the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “Shut up, Sehun,” he says when that doesn’t work.

“Well, I’m real,” Chanyeol says cheerfully, and he gently squeezes Jongin’s hands that are still in his. He looks back at Jongin then and asks, “Want to eat?”

Jongin nods, lets Chanyeol pull him to his feet and he takes the brown bag from the floor over to the table. He hears Chanyeol properly introducing himself to Kyungsoo, excitedly saying it’s nice to meet him because Jongin talks about him a lot, and Kyungsoo laughs softly, the way he does when he’s kind of charmed. He hopes Kyungsoo won’t say anything about him that’s too embarrassing, the anxious knot in Jongin’s stomach from when Chanyeol walked through the door still not loose enough to shake away.

“I should’ve called first, I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says, coming up behind Jongin and startling him. He rests his hands on his hips to calm him, and Jongin shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” he says with a smile. “I’m glad you’re here, you can save me from them.”

“But aren’t you supposed to save _me_?” Chanyeol hisses. He glances over his shoulder where the others are undoubtedly staring at them, and then back to Jongin. “Your friend looks like he wishes I wasn’t real.”

Jongin laughs. “Sehun always makes that face,” he says. “I think you’d both get along. He’s an idiot.”

“I can _hear you_ ,” Sehun calls out dryly as Chanyeol squawks, “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Jongin grins at him and shrugs, amused, before ducking out of Chanyeol’s light embrace to settle into a chair at the table. He pulls one of the containers from the bag, surprised to find it’s not from a shop, but clearly home cooked. “Did you make this?” he asks, eyes widening up at Chanyeol.

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging as he sits down next to him.

Jongin just stares at him. He’s always a little amazed, because after all these years of being single and suddenly Jongin’s found someone who practically jumped out of the pages of Otomen.

He must have a ridiculously amazed expression on his face because Chanyeol laughs and pushes his hair back from his forehead. “I like to cook, I’ve told you that,” he says, and then lightly kicks Jongin under the table. His hair flops back into his eyes and he shakes them away a bit. “Now stop looking at me like I’ve grown another head. Eat.”

“Thank you,” Jongin says earnestly, and he’s delighted when Chanyeol blushes a bit, rubs at his nose.

“You should teach Jongin how to cook,” Sehun says, sliding into the empty seat on Chanyeol’s right. “So he’ll stop eating instant ramyeon all the time.” He reaches out to steal some of Jongin’s lunch but Jongin is quick, smacking the back of his hand and pulling the container away.

“Get your own boyfriend to make you lunch,” Jongin says as Sehun whines at him, slumping across the table.

“I _would_ , but he’s not _here_ ,” Sehun says, throwing a glare toward Yifan’s empty desk and Jongin makes a face.

“Go home,” Jongin says, shoving his shoulder away hard enough that Sehun practically topples over in his chair. Chanyeol quickly reaches out to steady him and Sehun assesses him for a second, but then smiles. Chanyeol looks pleased by that, scratching the side of his face as he turns away to steal a little bit of the lunch he made for Jongin.

They don’t get much work done that afternoon, as Chanyeol sticks around and chats amiably with Junmyeon and laughs over Kyungsoo and Sehun’s embarrassing Jongin stories. Jongin tries to melt into a puddle on the floor but it doesn’t seem to work, and he figures with Chanyeol wrapping an arm around him that maybe it’s not all too bad.

“You know, meeting you now makes me understand a little how Jongin couldn’t resist drawing that comic of you,” Junmyeon says a few hours later, just before he leaves, dragging Sehun with him. Kyungsoo had left earlier to meet his girlfriend for a late lunch. Jongin makes a startled, anguished noise that has Junmyeon looking at him with a sigh. “You didn’t tell him about that yet? I told you I wanted to include it in the next volume.”

“You drew a manhwa of me?” Chanyeol exclaims, sounding like a little kid who had just gotten a present. He’s looking at Jongin with wide, bright eyes that makes him feel a little less terrible about the whole thing.

“It’s just a short...thing,” Jongin says weakly while Sehun doesn’t even bother hiding his laughter.

“It’s good,” Junmyeon says, nudging Sehun to get him to shut up. “Go show him. It was nice meeting you, Chanyeol.”

“You, too,” Chanyeol says enthusiastically, waving goodbye at them both as Jongin slinks back to his desk.

He pulls out the comic since there’s no way he can hide it from Chanyeol now, and when Chanyeol joins him again, he hands the pages to him. “Here,” he says, biting his lower lip anxiously. “It’s not supposed to like, actually, _be_ you, but you definitely did inspire it.” He rubs a hand over his eyes and mumbles, “How embarrassing. I was pretty much never gonna tell you.”

“Jongin, you should realize by now I think what you do is kind of cool,” Chanyeol laughs. “So there’s no reason to be embarrassed.” He looks down at the pages and then back at Jongin. “If you don’t want me to see, though--”

“No, it’s okay,” Jongin says quickly, waving his hands, and Chanyeol smiles and flips open to the first page of the comic. Jongin watches his face closely as he reads, worrying his lower lip between his teeth again. Chanyeol’s smiling slowly as he scans the pages, and he laughs softly when he reaches the end.

“I think you’re forgetting yourself in this story,” he says, grinning, as he sets it down onto Jongin’s desk.

“It’s not supposed to be _you_ , remember?” Jongin says, letting Chanyeol tug him close by pulling on the hem of his shirt until Jongin practically tumbles into his chest.

“It was really cute,” Chanyeol says. “I knew I was too devastatingly handsome to not inspire something awesome from you.”

“Shut up, Chanyeol,” Jongin mutters, but he’s grinning. Chanyeol’s basically right, anyway, not that Jongin will ever admit it.

Jongin taps the end of his pencil against the coffee table, staring down at the blank page before him. He’s got twenty-four hours until his next deadline which he’s a hundred percent certain he will miss because of course now is when he’ll end up with an art block. He glares at the paper and drops his pencil, letting it roll across the table and topple straight off the edge. With a groan he slinks down onto the floor and flops an arm over his eyes.

He can hear Chanyeol fiddling around in the kitchen, then the heavy pad of feet getting closer. Chanyeol laughs when he walks into the room. “Going that badly, I take it?” he asks and Jongin lowers his arm to look up at him.

He’s holding two mugs of what smells like coffee in his hands and Jongin pulls himself upright to take one from him. He’s going to need some caffeine to keep himself awake enough to get through the work he has to do.

“I’m stuck,” he says quietly. He doesn’t particularly like admitting when he’s having trouble, but Chanyeol is staring at him almost worriedly so he gives in. “I know what has to happen but I’m not sure how to draw it? I don’t know.”

Chanyeol sits down on the floor next to him, pats Jongin’s knee. “That happens to everyone, don’t stress yourself out.”

“I’ve been staring at this all _day_ ,” Jongin says. “Even before you asked me to come over.” He takes a sip of his coffee, careful not to burn his tongue. “And if I don’t get something done, Junmyeon-hyung is going to kill me.”

“You always say that, and yet here you are,” Chanyeol says, lips quirking up in amusement.

“I have a lot of lives,” Jongin says. “I’m like a cat.”

“Does that mean you purr?” Chanyeol leers, leaning in toward Jongin interestedly and Jongin rolls his eyes, nudges him lightly with his elbow but laughs.

He sets his mug down on the coffee table and stretches his foot out underneath to slide his pencil back. “I have a day to get this done, Chanyeol,” he says. “What am I gonna do?”

Chanyeol rubs his back and it’s wonderfully comforting. He scoots closer to Jongin, sliding a leg over Jongin’s under the table. “Hey,” he says. “Don’t stress. You’ll be fine. And besides, I’m sure Junmyeon is expecting you to be late anyway, so that really gives you more time.”

Well, he has a point there. Jongin chuckles, shaking his head. “One day, I’d like to be on time, just to see how shocked he’ll get.”

Chanyeol laughs, shifting a bit so he can rest his chin on Jongin’s left shoulder. “It’s okay if you’re stuck, Jongin. That happens, you know.” He shrugs. “Sometimes I get stuck on what to do with my kids.”

That pulls a snort out of Jongin, turning to give Chanyeol an amused look. Chanyeol leans back and holds up a hand before Jongin can say anything.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s not quite the same thing, but you know what I’m trying to say,” he says. He grins, slides his hand up Jongin’s back and over his shoulder, pulling him close. “And even if sometimes I feel lost or stuck, when I’m with you, I feel like I could do anything.” he says and Jongin’s heart skids to a halt in his chest. “So, let me be your muse. I’ll help you however I can.”

Jongin lets out an incredulous laugh, turning to Chanyeol with wide eyes. “You stole that line from a manhwa, didn’t you.” He doesn’t have to ask, because he already knows. He knows all too well.

Chanyeol pointedly does not look at Jongin. “Maybe,” he says, busying himself by taking a few sips from his mug. Jongin stares at him expectantly, and Chanyeol blurts out, “Okay, fine, so I did! But I meant it!” He rubs the back of his neck and then smiles at Jongin curiously. “It’s one of my favorites, okay. I’ve been waiting for the new volume for ages.”

Jongin bursts out into laughter, practically doubling over in his mirth as Chanyeol stares at him with wide eyes like he’s gone insane. “Chanyeol,” Jongin manages to get out between laughs, “that manhwa--”

And then he gets it, recognition filling his eyes as he gasps loudly and points at Jongin. “No way! That’s yours?”

Jongin only nods a few times, his shoulders shaking. Chanyeol’s earlier surprise has faded away into something much more fond, and Jongin takes a long sip from his coffee before he manages to speak. “I can’t believe you just used a line from my manhwa on me,” Jongin says, grinning widely.

“Well, did it work?” Chanyeol asks, hopeful, and Jongin nods again.

“It is a good line,” he says with a small smirk and Chanyeol barks out a laugh.

“I can’t believe you’re _Kai_ ,” he says, shaking his head. “No wonder your art looked so familiar.”

“One of your favorites, huh?”

Chanyeol shoves Jongin’s shoulder. “Not that I read them or anything--”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Chanyeol,” Jongin laughs, nudging him back.

“Really, though, half of the guesses I’ve had were from Naver searches,” Chanyeol admits. He rubs his fingers around the rim of his mug a few times before he takes a drink. “But that’s not important, anyway.” He pushes Jongin’s blank pages toward him. “You should get to work. And I’ll be your muse and do muse-like things.”

“Which is what, exactly?” Jongin says, raising a brow in amusement.

“Drink my coffee, and keep you company,” Chanyeol responds easily, and despite the workload Jongin has to accomplish, Jongin thinks he quite likes the sound of that.

“You know, you never took me up on my initial offer,” Chanyeol says one evening as they head up to Jongin’s studio after catching dinner together with Yifan and Lu Han.

“What’s that?” Jongin questions, glancing over his shoulder at Chanyeol inquisitively as he unlocks the door to the studio and lets them in.

“The first day we met,” Chanyeol says. He shrugs out of his leather coat and pulls off his snapback, ruffles his hair. “Letting me pose for you.”

Jongin blinks at him for a moment, and then the memory floods back, filling his cheeks with heat. “What you wrote in my sketchbook--” he says, chuckling softly and turning away from Chanyeol’s curious gaze. He unwraps the scarf from around his neck and drapes it over the back of his chair at his desk, unbuttons his coat. “I...well, that’s embarrassing. I mean, I’ve never really done that, or, well, I haven’t in a long time and you’re--” He turns back to Chanyeol and waves at him, like that single gesture will better explain what he’s trying to put into words.

Chanyeol, however, just looks amused. “I’m what?” he asks.

“I-I don’t know!” Jongin exclaims, throwing his hands up into the air in panic.

“Aw, Jongin,” Chanyeol whines, coming up behind Jongin to hug him gently. “What’s the big deal? I just think it’s cool you know, no one’s ever drawn me before.” He lets Jongin go and stretches his arms over his head before he drops them to his side with a deep sigh. “Well, other than the short manhwa you already drew,” he says, “but that doesn’t really count.”

Jongin squints at him. “Do you have some deep seeded dream to be an art model or something?”

Chanyeol laughs, the loud, slightly obnoxious one of his that Jongin hates how much he loves. He grins at Jongin and makes a tiny space in the air between his thumb and finger. “A little,” he says before he suddenly flings himself onto the couch. It’s too small for his long body, but he still manages to look attractive as he rests his head on his hand and stretches his legs out. “So, c’mon, draw me like one of your French girls.” He waggles his eyebrows.

Jongin snorts. “That’s not quite what I do,” he laughs.

“Who cares, draw me anyway.”

Jongin laughs even louder, shaking his head as he walks over. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, climbing onto the couch and straddling Chanyeol’s hips.

Chanyeol licks his lips and slowly smiles, shows off his perfectly white teeth. His hands settle on Jongin’s waist, warm even through the layer of clothing. “Yeah,” he says, “but you still like me.”

He does, Jongin really, _really_ does. It’s been a long time since he’s felt like this with anyone. “I guess I do,” Jongin teases though, like he’s not entirely sure, and when Chanyeol’s fingers tickle his sides, he bursts out into a laugh, squirming above him.

“What was that?” Chanyeol questions loudly, unrelenting, and Jongin smacks his chest feebly to get him to stop.

“I like you, I like you,” Jongin gasps, and when Chanyeol finally ceases his attack, Jongin leans in close enough that their lips are just barely touching and he could count every one of Chanyeol’s dark eyelashes. “You know I do.”

“Do I?” Chanyeol says, pursing his lips thoughtfully, and Jongin swats him again before bridging the tiny gap between them in a kiss. Jongin sighs into his mouth, curls his fingers into the collar of Chanyeol’s shirt, pulling a bit to get him even closer and probably stretching the fabric out weirdly. He doesn’t care, and it doesn’t seem like Chanyeol does, either, not when he slips his hands into the back pockets of Jongin’s jeans and tugs him down.

When they part, Jongin is laughing softly against Chanyeol’s mouth, taking in the slightly flushed skin and the wetness of his red lips. “Okay,” Chanyeol says, reaching a hand up to brush Jongin’s hair away from his face. “I know.”

Jongin’s never been good at confessions that weren’t on paper, said between fictional characters that end up in an argument four pages later. This, though, he thinks, ranks up there with some of his favorites, like when Keiko tackled Yusuke on the beach at the end of Yu Yu Hakusho or when Ed and Winry finally expressed their love through equivalent exchange. Except, none of that is real, and this is. The Chanyeol looks at him and the way he feels, so warm under Jongin’s fingertips. This, he thinks, is actually better than all of that.

“Stop thinking and kiss me,” Chanyeol whines and Jongin laughs and laughs, his chest warm, heart pounding, and he takes Chanyeol’s face in his hands and he does.

 

 

“So you’re not gonna draw me like one of your French girls?” Chanyeol says, an hour later. “I’ll even strip for you.”

Jongin can hear the promise in his voice. He doesn’t even bother to look when he throws one of his manhwa volumes over his shoulder in Chanyeol’s direction, and the pained, “ _Ow_!” has him smirking down at his work.

(Maybe later, he’ll take Chanyeol up on that offer.)

**Author's Note:**

> all the scene break anime emojis are from [here](http://engrampixel.tumblr.com/tagged/emoji) and [here](http://princess-pixel.tumblr.com/tagged/mini+pixels). the mangas chanyeol guessed are real, tho i haven’t actually read any of them so i can’t tell you if they’re good lmao.


End file.
